It was midnight, 1 a.m precisely,the silence of the night, was only distrupted , by the testimony of the ticking clock, that hung on the wall, somewhere in karamo's room. P.h.c.n had done their thing, few hours ago, and karamo no longer felt comfortable, in fact he felt fear creaping into his being and paralysing him, he thought he saw something,and he pointed with his phone display light, only to see nothing. He kept his phone by his side, and kept pressing buttons randomly to keep the display light from going out. Prior to the interruption of power supply, he'd been reading a piece on his blackberry phone, titled 'ghost-ful', by slickest; in the literature section, of Nairaland. But now, he cursed himself for stumbling on such a scary piece, during late hours, he had slept earlier than usual on that tuesday by 8.p.m(perhaps because of the heavy rain, and cold weather) Then he had woken up by 12:12am. As a chronic Nairalander,he decided to surf nairaland, as sleep wasn't forth coming, he then stumbled on 'ghost-ful', he'd been reading it until power was interrupted, and had to close up the page, because of nothing, but fear. The central character, in the story, 'ghost-ful',-Rasheed had only to sleep in the night, for his woes with restless souls to begin, and now karamo felt like, he was in Rasheed's shoes, so he dissed sleep."come off it karamo, you're not a kid, it's just a story" his mind ministered. His eyes lit up in agreement, with his mind, it was just a mere story, he had nothing to worry about, or so he thought, if only he knew his night had just begun..,.

Slickest is this you? I can bet with the whole money I have (which is not much) that you are the one that wrote this piece.

hmmm

Karamo switchted on the rechargeable lantern. His room was a typical students room. A shelf at an angle held kitchen utensils and plates, a make-shift wardrobe, nailed firmly to the wall, held his cloths, there were 2 boxes, the foam in his room wasn't mouka, or vita, or any of the big names, it was just there, with a blue bed-sheet adorning it, on one side of the wall was a large photo of lagbaja in which, he posed with a trombone, beside it was a similar-in-size photo of Jesus Christ and his disciples, on the last supper. Then there was a large photo of Chelsea F.C's complete team, these pictures where among the first things his eyes were laid upon, when he woke up from bed. he was 'the blue's' to the core, unlike femi his best friend who was a Man utd fan. that, and stature amounted to the only thing, he didn't share in common with his red-devil homie- he was 5ft'4' like general sani abacha had been, dark in complexion, full-bodied, with a face that reminded you of Raskimono on skin-cut, femi on the other hand was 6ft'3' like ex-british prime minister tony blair, and had an athletic build, they were both 24 yrs of age, same birthdays, same department, you could still find 'same' in several of their dictionaries. The Light from the charger was faint, but typical of light, it chased the darkness surrounding it, this was enough for karamo, the darkness was becoming too creapy.
After he had re-assured himself, that 'ghost-ful' was just a story,then it had occured to him that there was a rechargeable lantern, somewhere on his reading table, a few hundred centimetres from his bed, he didn't remember charging it though, but he was sure it would deliver- on a minimal scale ,at least. he carried the lantern, and set it on the floor beside his bed, he cursed fear, in his heart. "Fear makes you forget the immediate weapon at your disposal" he reasoned. "why you curse am for your mind? you for open mouth curse fear na, you dey fear?" a voice inside him queried, almost without thinking, karamo proclaimed, "fear i curse you!" satisfied, he lay on his bed. He made movements with his hands across the bed, in search of his blackberry, it was not around, he sat up, then stood up, but there was not a trace of the blackberry phone on the bed, the light from the blackberry led him to trace his lantern on the reading table, he couldn't exactly figure out, if he made it back to the bed with the smartphone or if he left it on the reading table, he walked briskly towards the table. it wasn't on the table either.he looked up to the wall clock,it was 1.45am..."where could the phone be na?" but only the ticking clock , and what sounded like a knock on the door gave him an incoherent reply...fear resumed duties, in his mind's office.....

luvmijeje: Slickest is this you? I can bet with the whole money I have (which is not much) that you are the one that wrote this piece.

and i can bet my 2 cents, you'ld lose ur money..lol, thanks for commenting.

It was indeed a knock, a soft but urgent tap on karamo's door. He had spent not less than 120 night in this neighbourhood, and no one had ever knocked on his door by midnight, next to his room, was the bathroom and toilet, which he shared with the next room. The next room was occupied by a female student, Lisa who wasn't around, and was seldom around. karamo reasoned she wasn't straight, he often heard loud moans from her room at night,when she was around, only to sight-from his window- a fat short girl friend of lisa, leaving very early, often by 6 the next morning, lisa herself wasn't preety, she was as ugly as she was rude- the other side of the passage way, was a flat, occupied by the landlord and his family, whenever they were in town, which was normally during easter or chrismas holidays. It wasn't easter , neither was it chrismas, karamo's extended neighbours, the once leaving in the other buildings in the compound were all around- They were all around when it happened!

Yes they were all there when aluu 4 happened, they could do nothing to salvage the situation.
4 of their fellow students had been brutally and unjustifiably murdered by the town folks. It had been 4 month's now, and karamo wondered why aluu 4, was the first of all thoughts to occur in his mind, as he heard the fourth tap on the door. His brain was numbed with fear, indecision loomed around him, even if he wanted to say something, his tongue was too numb to speak. There were no more taps after the fourth, karamo wiped the sweat from his face, that was the first move he made in the past 4 minutes when he stood rooted to a spot. "what was that?" he whispered, barely hearing himself. The ringing of the phone on the table, he had checked before-to no avail- made karamo shift sharply in reflex.

Pls your ideas and ur comments would be helpful to the growth of the story, As i'ld derive inspiration from them, thanks a lot..

It wasn't exactly a ringtone that played out of the phone, it was "this one still dey alive!!! Kill am!! Thiefs.....!!! " those sounded familiar, he went closer to his phone, it was unmistakably, the video excerpts of aluu 4 killing, but he thought he had deleted this clip, blackberry was a smart phone, but it wasn't smart enough to go on an intuitive video playing spree. And not This , of all video clips! he thought. He quickly grabbed the phone, and stopped the video, he deleted the clip with trembling fingers, his heart was now beating to the rhythm of the Clock, like 'per second billings'
*****
Give hope, to the hopeless, you'ld be doing him a great deal of good, Give a penny to the pennyless,it'ld do him less than good, give life to the lifeless, you'ld hear stories of the dead. Tell the living, stories of the dead, they tend to get scared. they want to say 'hold it' at a point, but their curiousity, gets the better of them.
Karamo was curious, to confirm, what he was seeing, he could have ignored it, but he rose from his bed, ignoring the mosquito buzzing on his ears, he carried the lantern and walked stealthily towards the picture of the "last supper" the central figure was putting on a mask, he wasn't just putting on a mask, for in the place of "Jesus" in the photo, Karamo saw labgaja, he stumbled backwards, as he noticed that all players of chelsea were putting on Lagbaja's signature mask, he wiped his eyes to see if his mind was playing tricks on him, something changed; the masked picture personalities, seemed to be all staring at him, and blinking. "Jeeeesus christ!!!!" he shouted as he woke up, his eyes impulsively went straight to the pictures, they all appeared normal, then he looked towards the clock, it was 3 o'clock. He was sweating all over. It was a nightmare.
There were questions on karamo's mind. Who knocked on the door? Why the ominous air all over the room? This wasn't the first time he read a horror piece, during late hours.
The Fan came to life, as power was restored, and the whole room was lit up in bright Light.

I gat lectures by 8,perhaps later in the day, i'll post.

Karamo was relieved, "thank God!" he sighed. He stood up and plugged his phone to charge on the extension sockets on the floor, near the reading table, he plugged the rechargeable lantern too. He then proceeded to lay on the bed. Sweat was already drying from off his bare body; he was putting on only a 'perry cole' boxer. As he lay on the bed, he also wondered why his phone had gone on an intuitive video playing spree, sleep gradually came around.
******************************
The cloud seemed to form a shape.
The shape looked more like two horses facing each other,with something inbetween them.karamo thought the shape resembled the nigerian coat of arms, he wondered how he could suddenly see the sky,from his room. Where had the roof gone to?he focused on The shape in the sky, then all of a sudden the sky turned blank, so blank, that it got karamo scared.
There wasn't a trace of a cloud anywhere. It was ominiously unusual. The sky turned grey, and their were voices speaking in languages, karamo couldn't understand, they were shouting in his ears, he turned around, this time facing the bed; for he had been lying face upwards.
He covered his ears, untill the voices subsided. He removed his hands from his ears, and made to turn around, but held strongly by a strong force. It was like the force was pressing existence out of him. Karamo was now so scared. He knew he couldn't say something out.

He knew from experience; in his 24yrs of existence, he'd had, countless bouts of 'sleep paralysis' as a post on nairaland, had described what was now happening to him. Sleep paralysis; the brain's complicated Instruction to the body,to stay still, and not act a dream script' His mum's explanation, when he had once related the experience to her had been "it is a spiritual attack o, that occurs only when you do not pray before going to bed!" karamo made it a point of duty then, to pray before going to bed, but the 'spiritual attack' hadn't stopped, sometimes during a bout of 'sleep paralysis' he saw the figure of a woman clad in a black robe, sewing something with a thread , then looking up at him and taunting him, by moving her eyeballs from side to side and grinning from side to side.

During those bouts,during those times, he always said in his heart- because he always found himself, unable to speak out then- saying ''blood of Jesus! blood of Jesus!" Until he was free from the paralysis.sleep paralysis or spiritual attack leading to paralysis; He preferred to believe the former, as it provided a natural and normal explanation to this phenomenon, than the latter, which made him appear like a victim of spiritual abnormality, and that had a terrifing undertone, but what was he to call the "scornful dark seamstress" as femi had jokingly called her, when he told him. And he had assured himself, he was just hallucinating, "let me assume i'm correct" he'd hoped. Now the pressure on his body was becoming unbearable, this was by far more than the typical sleep paralysis', he normally experienced. He was suffocating, and was badly in need of oxygen. "Laugh today!" a falsetto voice growled by the left! "or Laugh tomorrow!", another falsetto voice growled by the Right.

Doctor Shroud: Pls your ideas and ur comments would be helpful to the growth of the story, As i'ld derive inspiration from them, thanks a lot..

still stands.

Interesting story...keep it coming

uhm, well you got the flair and the dexterity for writing,
i love all the allusions you make, superb!


but you gotta learn to space, so as to create eye comfort, those are the kind of story that catch people fancy here on nl.

put it inpractice okay, you are on your way to the top

princesa: uhm, well you got the flair and the dexterity for writing,
i love all the allusions you make, superb!


but you gotta learn to space, so as to create eye comfort, those are the kind of story that catch people fancy here on nl.

put it inpractice okay, you are on your way to the top

thanks a lot. Princessa,
i definitely will...and pls help me watch out for other areas, i might need corrections. You know i got your back too on 'taking chances'

Oloware: Interesting story...keep it coming

thanks, i Definitely will.

The falsetto voices echoed on both sides of his ears. He made a vain effort to move up. "Jeeesus Jee sus save m..." he whispered, he struggled, it was futile, he calmed his nerves, and brains, and then very gradually he became relieved.
The ceiling fan, in the room was working overtime, karamo was sweating overtime , he turned around , this time lying face-upward. He ignored his thumping heart,
He didn't want to think, he didn't want his mind to wander about; his straying thoughts had caused him much misery already.
He just wanted to be calm.

'After a rule, come's an exception to the rule, then the next time, the exception becomes the new rule.' ; so it was posited in the movie 'City of God' karamo had to hit his neck, for that was where the ant had just stung him, he succeeded in killing the black soldier ant. Killing the ant, was only a reflex action,
the reflex action was the exception to karamo's 'stay calm' rule. There are three stages of metamorphosis in this regard; The rule , the exception , and the new rule. Find out the next stage of metamorphosis.

Dr Shroud, well done.
In all honesty this story reminds me of 'ghostful' I can even list 5 similarites between them but I am hoping as this story develop it will have its own distinctiveness. *following*

luvmijeje: Dr Shroud, well done.
In all honesty this story reminds me of 'ghostful' I can even list 5 similarites between them but I am hoping as this story develop it will have its own distinctiveness. *following*

in all honesty, i derived part-time inspiration to write this story from 'ghostful', hence the allusions to 'ghostful' but despite that, i assure you, 'Transparent people', is different..stay tuned to find out. Thanks for commenting too.

okay seen the paragraph changes, but one other tiny request. it would be better if you also separated the dialogue from the narration, though tasking but rewarding.

and that female neighbour is a lesbian not a gay.

princesa: okay seen the paragraph changes, but one other tiny request. it would be better if you also separated the dialogue from the narration, though tasking but rewarding.

and that female neighbour is a lesbian not a gay.

Noted. Thank you, and pls feel free to make other requests however 'tiny' they might be, they make great impacts on this thread.

@princesa, i thought, Generally when people ain't straight, they're gay, irrespective of actual sex?

Doctor Shroud:
@princesa, i thought, Generally when people ain't
straight, they're gay, irrespective of actual sex?

don't about that, they are not straight people sexually, and the girls are lesbians while the guys are gays or homosexuals.
that's what i know

princesa:
don't about that, they are not straight people sexually, and the girls are lesbians while the guys are gays or homosexuals.
that's what i know

Noted

The exception gradually became the rule, as karamo stood up, he examined the tiny creature on his fingertips, he had hit it like, it was the cause of his misery these past few hours. he disposed the tiny insect somewhere on the floor, and wiped his hands on the bedsheets, his fingers grabbed something as he wiped his fingers on the ruffled bedsheet.
He was sure it was a cockroach.
The insect was desperately wriggling to be set free. Karamo tightened his hold, but he didn't want to squash it either.

The cockroach was sure, to release it's signature juice, on the blue bedspread, if he squashed it.
He stood up.
Delicately holding the area where the insect was trapped, he untucked the bedsheet systematically, then spread them before the tiled floor, leaving only an area, where he expected the insect to escape from, then he grabbed the tin of new mortein insecticide,from a basket beside the bed with his free hands, then released his grip on the insect. the insect expectedly sped out of the bedsheet from the only available area. Karamo sprayed a generous amount of the insectide, on the insect, it had a quick effect on the cockroach, as it slowed down automatically, but was still in motion.
"walking corpse" karamo muttered as he watched the slow-moving cockroach. 'walking corpse' didn't apply to cockroaches, he knew but cared less.
He replaced the insecticide. The smell of the insecticide was unbearable for him too, he threw the sheets on the bed. And moved to the reading table, where he sat, he glanced at the clock, it was 3:35am.
He didn't feel like sleeping again...

Doctor Shroud: Pls your ideas and ur comments would be helpful to the growth of the story, As i'ld derive inspiration from them, thanks a lot.

More comments pls, the few made, has improved the lot of this story apparently. Thanks

Am usually too lazy to comment bt dis is a Great work shroud, Great work *following* @princesa i think gay is applicable to both male nd female *sexually attracted to the same sex* tnks.

brosmart: Am usually too lazy to comment bt dis is a Great work shroud, Great work *following* @princesa i think gay is applicable to both male nd female *sexually attracted to the same sex* tnks.

thanks bro...i appreciate your veiws.

Karamo had just unplugged his phone, he was scrolling through his log, he planned to call tutu , his girlfreind. Her's had been the last number to call him, yesterday evening, just after femi had called him.
Femi's father was terribly ill, and at the point of death. The old man had been struck with the worst kind of cancer of the lungs, and cancer of the blood cells. only a miracle could save the old man's life. Femi , been the first son, was -by family tradition - entitled to be by the old man's side. Femi had little to worry about school work, karamo had assured him he had his back.
Now karamo was dialling Tutu's digits. 'Not available.' came the reply.
He decided to entertain himself, by remembering how he met tutu.
Tutu was a 20 year old, 1st year student of sociology department, karamo was 2 levels ahead, in same department.
Tutu was a fair beauty, and shapely too, unlike Tola his ex, who was dark, facially preety, but not exactly shapely, she was a girl of quite dimunitive frame.
Tola always made demands, but was never commited to the relationship, karamo was helplessly in love with her, until he caught her red-handed, cheating on him with another guy. He stopped loving her, she cared less, and life had moved on after the split. Life 'moving on' had involved his sexual activities with inobong, a restaurant assistant, whose body a typical african man, was prone to lust after. She was a chocolate beauty. Inobong didn't just have those bodily features that was symbolic of a sexy lady, she had them in abundance. She was a thoroughly local girl, a girl of cheap virtue too.
"Aní mà shàun" as wizkid called it, in his 'Ole' track.
Inobong was a free giver, you only had to have a sizeable manhood, to qualify for her favours. That was as much as many people in Aluu knew about her, what they didn't know about her was ominous.
Inobong was a terrible Witch.